A Court Bright and Broken (Age of Fae #1)

9. There is a Price

Chapter 9

There is a Price

R aewyn

The Earthwife opened her door before I had a chance to knock on it.

“I happened to be looking out my window and saw you coming down the lane,” she explained without me even asking.

“How are you on this fine day, Raewyn?”

“Very well,” I lied out of politeness. “How are you?”

“ Very well indeed.”

Sorcha appeared as she always did, pink-cheeked, her silvery blonde hair piled atop her head in a tidy bun, her sharp green eyes flicking over me, taking in every detail. Today, as every day, she wore a long red dress with a silver chain wrapped around her waist. I had no idea how old she was, as she’d looked the same to me my whole life—middle-aged at least.

She stepped back and invited me into her cottage, which was warm and pleasantly cluttered and smelled strongly of herbs and mutton stew. My stomach growled loudly.

After feeling the girls’ bones last night through their clothing, I’d opted not to eat supper myself and to give them my portion of beans. They’d been so excited to hear my stories, they hadn’t noticed the oversight , and of course Father hadn’t seen the skipped meal.

“Missed breakfast, did you?” Sorcha asked in a knowing tone. Clearly she’d heard the rumble.

“Yes, I… wanted to get an early start. No chance to eat first.”

Holding up a finger, she said, “Just a moment.”

Sorcha crossed the room to the bubbling pot on the stovetop, which was large and full to the brim. Its contents would feed my family for a month, if there were any way to keep it fresh for that long.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” I said, looking around. “Are you expecting company?”

“Company? No.” She shook her head and smiled. “I just have a large appetite.”

She took a bowl from the narrow shelf over the stove and ladled a generous helping of stew into it.

“I was just about to sit down and eat. Would you care for some?”

My gaze followed the bowl longingly as she carried it from stove to table. The alluring scent was even stronger now.

Sorcha went back and took down another bowl, holding it at the ready over the pot.

“As you can see, there’s plenty. And I hate to eat alone,” she said.

My reluctance to accept charity stood no chance against my hunger, which was ravenous now. I was salivating so profusely it was almost hard to form the words.

“Yes, thank you. I believe I will have some.”

Sorcha’s smile widened. “Good. You’re looking a little peaked. Skipping meals isn’t healthy for young women.”

With a glance up at me, she added, “Even worse for little girls.”

Guilt punctured my heart, competing with hunger for the dominant sensation ravaging my body. Hunger prevailed.

I was halfway through the bowl of stew, which was without question the most delicious thing I’d ever tasted, before it occurred to me to wonder… where its ingredients had come from.

Though Sorcha had an abundant garden, accounting for the carrots and celery and potatoes, she didn’t raise livestock. In fact I didn’t know of anyone in the village who raised sheep.

The meat had probably been a trade from a petitioner like me, but I didn’t ask. It seemed like a rude response to a hospitable free meal.

Besides, I had a more important query on my mind.

Sorcha finished her bowl and glanced at mine, which had long since stood empty.

She winked at me. “More, dear?”

My belly was full, but I did want more–for my family. Would she allow me to borrow bowls and carry them home full of stew? Before I had the chance to ask, Sorcha pinned me with a stare.

“Why are you here, Raewyn? Tell me what I can do for you—other than giving you your first meal in a week.”

“It hasn’t been a whole week,” I protested.

At her disbelieving glance, I went on. “But you’re right. I’m here because I do need your help.”

She listened attentively as I told her the story of going to the Rough Market, losing the locket, and how worried I was about my family now that my last hope of buying food and medicine for them was gone.

“I’m hoping it’s still in the market somewhere, that I might–”

“It’s not,” she said flatly. She seemed completely confident of the fact.

“Oh, well, I thought probably not, but I was hoping…”

“Is that why you came to see me, Raewyn?” she prompted. “Or was there something else?”

Under her intense gaze, I began to feel a bit queasy. But this was what I’d come here for. I steeled myself to do something I hadn’t done in many years, since my mother’s death—ask for help.

“There is something else. As I mentioned, Papa’s medicine has run out… and without the locket we have no means of buying more.”

She nodded for me to go on.

I licked my lips, drawing a quick breath.

“I don’t expect to receive something for nothing. I thought… well, I thought you might have some work around here that I could do for you… to pay for it.”

The Earthwife held both arms out to her sides. “Take a look around. As you can see, my cottage is already quite tidy, and I’m more than adept at cooking my own food. I don't need help with either of those things.”

“What about your gardens?” I asked eagerly. “Could I work in your gardens?”

“They're quite tidy as well,” she said. “Are you suggesting they are not?”

I cowered at her foreboding tone. Clearly she was as proud of her gardens as she was of her immaculate home.

“No, not at all. Every time I walk by your cottage, I think about how lovely they are, in fact.”

She gave me a regal nod. “Thank you. As you can see, there is nothing you can do for me… around my home.”

I couldn’t get over the feeling that she was waiting for something. But what?

I swallowed hard. “Would it be possible to get the medicine on loan then, just until I find another way to pay you?”

At this point marrying Dreadful Dardick or working in a pleasure house seemed to be my only two remaining options. Perhaps Katricia would be able to check in on my sisters and father every day if I did have to move away from home and sell myself into sexual slavery.

It was a lot to ask, even from a friend as good as she was. The girls would need care for at least another six years.

Sorcha’s tone was weary. “I don't give loans. I thought everyone knew that.”

“Yes, they do—I mean, I do—but I was hoping just this once you’d make an… exception.”

My words trailed off under her withering glare.

“I don’t make exceptions either,” she said. “But I will make you a trade.”

“A trade?”

My heart was thundering so hard in my ears I barely heard the words coming out of my own mouth.

“But… I have nothing to offer,” I said. “You know I lost the locket. It was the last thing we had of value.”

She lifted a thin eyebrow. “Are you quite certain it’s the only thing?”

Then she closed her eyes and began humming. I wasn't sure what she was doing or what to do with myself while she did it. I'd never taken part in a conversation quite like this one.

With her eyes still closed, Sorcha said in a low, eerie voice, “I see… gold.”

Gold?

“I have no gold, I assure you. Perhaps you're thinking of the locket?” I suggested. “But it wasn't made of gold. It was silver. And now it's gone, either stolen or trampled under mud and straw at the Rough Market. Wait—do you know where it is? Can you see it?”

Maybe the whole eyes-closed-creepy-humming thing was a location spell. The Earthwife still hadn't opened her eyes, and the odd humming resumed, growing louder and louder.

After another few moments, she spoke again. “Golden… writing. In a flourished script, wrought by an educated, practiced hand.”

My mind flew back to the scene outside the castle gates, watching in bafflement as Sam dipped a quill into the pot of golden ink and wrote out the words on the parchment.

Could she be referring to his invitation?

Sorcha’s eyelids were fluttering now as she seemed to be waking from sleep.

“Have you seen anything that fits this description?” she asked me.

I nodded. “Yes, I think so. When I was in the marketplace yesterday, I met a man. He was attacked by thieves, and I helped him get home. As it turned out, he was High Fae. He gave me an invitation written in golden ink as a thank you.”

Now the Earthwife’s eyes popped open wide. She looked like she’d never been more awake in her life.

She leaned forward across the table. “An invitation to what?”

Her tone was taut with anticipation. Her eyes seemed to glow as she waited for my answer.

“The writing says it's an invitation to a royal ball. At Seaspire,” I said haltingly, trying to process her bizarre reaction.

Was this something I could trade for the medicine and food we needed?

It seemed to me like nothing more than ink on paper, worthless. But the village mother seemed inordinately excited about it.

Seeming to gather herself, she took a breath, and her usual calm demeanor and mellow tone returned.

“As you know, I don't hand out my cures—or any other help—for free. A woman has to make a living, and times are hard.”

My heart sank. I had thought the tide was turning in my favor. It soared just as quickly though when she continued.

“But… you are clearly in desperate need, and I want to help.”

“Oh thank you. Thank you so much. I promise I will repay—”

Sorcha held up a hand. “I wasn’t finished.”

I fell silent as she went on. “I will help your family. I will sow a garden behind your family’s cottage that, within days, will be mature and as bountiful as mine, producing year-round.”

I was so full of questions about that , I didn’t know where to start. It was only early Spring. Not much was growing in the village yet, and no garden grew year-round. Winters here could be harsh.

But then, as I’d noted, Sorcha’s garden already bloomed with life, making it look more like Summer in her yard than the onset of growing season.

“Furthermore, I will heal your father, so that he no longer needs his medicine,” she said.

My jaw fell open. Could she do that? She was more powerful than I’d even realized. It all sounded amazing.

Too good in fact.

“You know I have no money to pay you.”

“Money will not be required,” Sorcha said. “But there is a price.”